


The Sea and The Moon

by winchero



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cigarettes, F/M, M/M, Party
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:11:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchero/pseuds/winchero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel comes from a devout Catholic family (no surprise really, given his name) and is studying medicine, with hopes to one day become a Jesuit Priest. Dean Winchester is only at University for one reason: to keep an eye on his kid brother (and if alcohol and sex is part of the college experience, who is he to refuse?). What will happen when the boy who vows to save everyone meets the only person who refuses to be saved?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is currently a work in progress, so tags will come as I write more of the story. If you want you could check out my tumblr: nebulouscas.tumblr.com

Castiel was named after the angel of Thursday, aptly so, due to the fact he was born on the day. His grandmother on his mother’s side told him, “Thursday’s child has far to go.” He’d have believed her too, if it weren’t for his father’s reply, “Now, we’ll have none of that pagan nonsense in my house.” His father had replied calmly, exuding a holier-than-thou air. His father had every right to this air, however: a deacon from the age of twenty, he made sure to raise all seven of his children in the Roman Catholic faith, and with only one of his sons straying from the flock, many would name his vocation a success. 

Castiel is one of seven siblings. From oldest to youngest: Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Gabriel, Castiel, Anael, and Samandriel. Each of Adonai Novak’s children were named after angels, fitting, of course, because he himself was named after God. From an early age they were encouraged to dedicate their lives to the Church, in whatever way they saw fit. Michael was already ordained and working as a priest in their parish. Raphael was recently accepted into a contemplative order of monks in the Rocky Mountains. Gabriel is working as a youth counsellor throughout the States, giving talks to teens about upholding Christian values. Castiel is at university, studying medicine, with plans to gain his degree and then begin his studies to become a Jesuit Priest. Anael (or Anna as she is known to her siblings) is in her final year of high school and is planning to volunteer for the Red Cross the minute she graduates. Samandriel is just starting high school; with no idea as to what he wants to do in the future other than it will be in some way serving God. 

Castiel has no idea in regards to what Lucifer was doing. He hasn’t spoken to his elder brother in 5 years, not since the day their father kicked the wayward son out of the house with the dreaded words, “And never come back!” It was hard on the whole family; they had already lost their mother to Samandriel’s birth, but it was especially difficult for Michael. The family as a whole was close, but Michael and Lucifer shared a special bond. When Lucifer left, Michael threw himself into his work with a near-insane fervour. Castiel can no longer remember the light-hearted, joyful man that was the Michael of 2009. 

“Castiel! You’re dreaming again!” The voice jolts Castiel from his reverie, and he looks up to the face of his oldest friend.

“Oh, Balthazar. I’m sorry…” Castiel trails off, gathering up the piles of anatomy books spread out before him into one neat pile on the library desk.

“Yes, yes.” Balthazar replies airily, waving his hand around in a dismissive gesture, “Now listen, a friend of mine, well, more of an acquaintance really, maybe we can change that tonight, eh? Anyway, this chick, Ruby, she’s having a party tonight, you in?”

“Balthazar, I’m sorry, but I have an examination in two weeks, you know I need to study for it.” Castiel replies as he stands up, slinging a messenger bag over his shoulder and picking up the stack of books he wants to return.

“Cassie, Cassie, Cassie! Where is your sense of adventure? You’ll be a Priest in two years, and then you’ll regret every moment you wasted studying when you could have been drinking and having sex!” Balthazar calls after him as Castiel drops his books on the return desk and smiles sweetly at the librarian.

“No, thank you, Balthazar.” He turns to leave the library and is stopped in his tracks by a hand grabbing the strap of his bag.

“Please, Cassie! I have no one else to go with, and I promise, I won’t ask you to another party again this year if you’ll agree.” Balthazar pleads. Castiel figures he must really like this girl if he resorted to using the word “please”.

“Okay,” he sighs, holding up a hand to silence Balthazar before he can interrupt, “But no forcing me to drink, take drugs, sleep with some poor girl, or forcing me to stay later than midnight.”

“Deal, done, and God, yes, Cinderella, we both know you play for the other team, anyway.” Balthazar smirks.

Castiel feels his face growing first pink, then red, then maroon before he manages to choke out, “I’m not gay.”

Balthazar chuckles, “Yeah, okay, whatever you say. Just remember, there’s nothing wrong with that. I wouldn’t judge you or anything if you were.”

Castiel nods stiffly, turning on his heel and marching out the library doors, “I’ll see you tonight, Balthazar.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight!” Balthazar’s voice calls after him. 

Castiel waves vaguely in Balthazar’s direction and turns the corner to find his bike neatly locked to the bicycle rack he always used. He pulls his helmet out of his bag and unlocks the chain attaching his bike to the rack. Castiel knows that it is wrong to love material goods, but he finds it very difficult to obey this law when it comes to his bike. It isn’t a particularly good bike: it’s old and battered and far too heavy for long-distance cycles, but there’s something about the way Castiel feels on the bike… Separately they aren’t much, a lean boy with rumpled hair and an old blue bike, but together… Well, that’s a whole new can of worms, isn’t it?

Castiel throws his leg over the saddle and pushes off. Instantly, he is flying. On his bike, Castiel doesn’t feel like an average person, he doesn’t feel like the boy your eyes glide over as they scour the room. No, when Castiel is pedalling the old bike as fast as his legs will move, when the wind howls in his ears, and the sun near blinds his eyes, he feels almost… angelic. Of course, the ride is always too short. He is never able to cycle just far enough to drop off the face of the earth and into the sky, but often he wonders, if he pedalled for just one metre more, and another metre after that, and another, and another, if he just kept pedalling… Could he fly far, far, far-

No. He couldn’t. Because the bike has stopped and Castiel gets off, pushing the vehicle into the lobby and onwards to the elevator. He refrains from gagging at the urine-scent that appears to poison all elevators and stares at the display above the buttons that slowly rise from zero to nineteen. The doors open and Castiel pushes his bicycle down the hall to the door of his apartment. He unlocks the door and sighs with relief as it shuts behind him. 

He hangs his bag and tan trench coat on the hook to his left and sets his loafers gently below. His bike he leans against the right wall, his helmet hanging from the handlebars. He walks from the hallway into the kitchen, immediately putting on the kettle. He hums to himself as the water boils, taking out a saucepan and some pasta. 

Finally getting tired of his own voice, he places a vinyl into the old record player his father gave him as a going-away present. Soon, the calming notes of “Greensleeves” fill the kitchen and Castiel’s meal of tuna pasta is ready. He sits down at the small table to eat, saying Grace beforehand, remembering to thank God for how lucky their family was, that they never had to want for anything financially, and to help his siblings in their vocations. He also prays for Lucifer, asking God to help him see the error of his ways and to return to them like the Prodigal Son so all past sins may be forgiven.

By the time he finishes praying his meal is slightly too cold, but he knows there are many people in the world who don’t have any food, and he chooses to be grateful for what he has. He picks up a novel (aside from his bicycle, reading is his only great joy in life and he cannot seem to help himself from buying classis at the used bookstore, no matter how much his father disapproves), and settles down to pass the hour until Balthazar arrives in London with Oliver Twist.

All too soon a knock echoes through the apartment from the door and Castiel regretfully leaves Fagin’s pickpocketers on his kitchen table. He opens the door for Balthazar and slips on his shoes.

“Ready for the best night of your life, Cassie-boy?” Balthazar grins at him. Castiel smiles back, unable to remember the last time he went out on a Saturday night with his friends. Did he ever go out on a Saturday night with his friends? It’s doubtful, now he thinks about it…

“Of course.” He replies, pulling on his trench coat and walking out of his apartment, locking the door behind him, “Let the fun begin.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's first college party is fairly typical, judging from what he has seen of the teen movies Anna watches on occasion. There's the scantily-clad girl draping herself over Balthazar like his favourite sweater, and the girl smoking all alone in a bathtub. For Castiel, the night really couldn't get much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Chapter Two is up, but due to the fact that this is my last day of mid-term break, new chapters will probably not be posted as often. For updates (and poems dedicated to each chapter) maybe check out my tumblr: nebulouscas.tumblr.com

Castiel hears the party before he sees it: a pounding baseline with a girl’s voice singing a vague approximation of a song over it. He turns to look at Balthazar with wide eyes as they stop the car a few yards up the road from the house.

“Balthazar… I don’t think this is a good idea…” He murmurs as a group of drunken, half-naked frat boys run past the car window. In front of him he can see a house overflowing with loud music, alcohol, and intoxicated twenty-year-olds.

“Can’t chicken out now, Cassie, you have no ride home!” Balthazar croons, eyes gleaming in the dark. He pulls his keys out of the ignition and pushes open his door, “C’mon, it’s time you started living a little.”

Castiel sighs. He can’t count how many times people have said that seven word phrase to him. He stopped trying to explain how he was living years ago. No one seemed to be able to understand that this is how he wants to live; this is God’s plan for him. Of course, his university years would be lonely, he knew that before e was even expected, but he also knew that the solitude would help strengthen his relationship with God, and abstaining from temptation would leave him more ready to deal with the trials the Priesthood promised. 

“Cassie, let’s go!” Balthazar whines, half-in, half-out of the car. Castiel sends a silent prayer to God for serenity before unfastening his seat belt.

“Okay.” He replies quietly as he slides out of the car. Balthazar cheers, flinging an arm around his shoulders and beginning to steer them down the road. Castiel flinches as they grow closer to Party HQ, the blaring music assaulting his eardrums.

Balthazar removes his arm from around Castiel’s shoulders as they make their way up the driveway, and pushes open the door to the house when they reach it. Castiel stands in shock as his senses are overloaded with everything, from the smell of tequila carried through the air from a spill on the floor, to the heat of the gyrating bodies which fill the room.

Balthazar calls out to a girl standing on a speaker, waving his hands at her. She spots him and grins, hopping off the pulsing speaker and weaving her way through the crowd towards them.

She comes to a halt in front of them, sharp eyes inspecting Castiel from his feet to the top of his head. She is small, with brown eyes and a similar colour in her hair. Castiel supposes she is attractive, but something in the way she smiles at him, like a lioness watching her prey, dissuades those thoughts from his mind. Anyway, a Priest should be married to his work, not noticing the beauty of scantily-clad females.

“Hi.” Her lips form a smirk around the word, drawing it out for longer than a solitary syllable requires.

“Hey, Ruby. This is my friend, Cassie.” Balthazar replies, barely taking his eyes off her exposed cleavage to acknowledge Castiel at all.

“Um, just Castiel.” Castiel frowns, he never really liked the nickname, but his entire family insisted upon using it, and he couldn’t really do much about it.

“Well, I’m sure Cas-ti-el wouldn’t mind getting me a drink, would he?” Ruby flutters her eyelashes at Balthazar, stepping forward and coiling herself around him like a cobra. 

Balthazar nods at him, mouthing a “please”. Castiel sighs, but turns around when he sees Ruby beginning to suck on Balthazar’s earlobe. He really does not want to see his friend get mauled on a dance floor.

Castiel spots a doorway across the room and begins walking towards it in the hopes it leads to somewhere less crowded. Halfway through his trek across the room, the song changes to something which appears to be popular among the party-goers as immediately the already packed living room seems to shrink to around the size of a sardine tin. He mumbles apologies as he pushes through the crowd, finally escaping through the doorway and into a hallway with several rooms leading off it. He doesn’t want to even imagine what is happening behind the shut doors, the noises coming through the thin walls give him clue enough.

He starts walking down the hallway, searching for a door or a window which may lead outside, but is disappointed when he comes to the end and only finds an unlocked bathroom door. He shrugs. Maybe it will have a window. Maybe pigs will fly. He opens the door and steps inside.

The bathroom is small, consisting of one sink, a toilet, and a bath with the shower curtain pulled across it. He steps up to the sink, turning on the cold water tap and cupping his hands under the faucet. He brings it to his face and sighs as the water cools his flushed cheeks. He blinks the water out of his eyes to look at his reflection in the mirror.

His hair is more rumpled than usual, ink spilled upon his head. His flushed cheeks make his blue eyes brighter than usual and the sweat beading on his forehead gives the impression that he was doing something other than simply walking through a crowded room. He blushes at the thought.

“Alright, stop admiring the sex hair, Clarence.” A voice startles him and he spins around to lock eyes with a girl with bleached-blonde hair peeking around the shower curtain at him.

“My name is Castiel.” He replies. She laughs, leaning forward to push the shower curtain back. His eyes rake over her. She is wearing dark jeans and a pair of biker boots, with a leather jacket resting on her lap.

“You getting in, Clarence?” She pulls her knees up, leaving him room at the other end of the bath tub. He considers her offer a moment before climbing in. He had to stay here another three hours, might as well make a new friend in the process.

She smiles at him, reaching behind her and pulling out a half-empty bottle of vodka and a packet of cigarettes. She offers him both but he waves them away. She shrugs, taking a lighter out of her pocket and lighting a cigarette. She takes a pull of the smoke, letting it out in a heavy sigh, dropping her head back against the wall.

“So, Clarence, why the fuck are you here if you aren’t planning to get drunk, high, or laid?” She asks him, eyes fixed on his own.

“My friend wanted me to-“ He breaks off coughing, waving the smoke away from his mouth.

“If your friend wanted you to jump off a cliff, would you?” She chuckles, staring up at the shower head and exhaling smoke rings.

“If he gave me a good reason for doing so, yes.” Castiel replies, smiling as she pumps her fist when a smoke ring loops perfectly around the shower head. She cocks her head at him, puzzling his answer.

“I don’t know if I’m drunk, or- Actually, scratch that, I am drunk. But that was a hella fine answer, Clarence.” She sighs again, bringing the bottle to her lips and swallowing down a mouthful. She grimaces as the vodka burns a path down her throat, and when she speaks again her voice is a little huskier than before. “So, philosophy major or something, right?”

“No, medicine.” Castiel replies.

She nods, “That would explain the no smoking, then. The doctor types generally tend to care about their lungs.”

Silence falls between them, Castiel watches the girl stare at the ceiling.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He asks finally. She smiles at him, putting out her cigarette on the porcelain tub.

“Meg.” 

Castiel nods, “Hi, Meg.”

“You’re a pretty neat dude, Clarence. A whole lot neater than a lot of other guys I know…” She trails off, once more returning her gaze wistfully to the ceiling.

“I try.” Castiel replies with a smile. “So, why are you in here?” 

She grins, lighting up another cigarette, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Actually, I wou-“ Castiel’s voice is broken off by a high-pitched scream emanating from a door down the hallway. He looks between Meg and the door. She laughs at him.

“Go be the guardian angel, Clarence.” She tells him and he wastes no time jumping out of the bathtub and running down the hallway to a door surrounded by several onlookers. He slips through the crowd and into the room, eyes quickly scanning the scene before him.

A man wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts, jumping off a bed with rumpled sheets, another man, fully clothed, pinning a girl in her underwear against the wall. The man pulls back his hand, beginning to swing it towards her face, and snarling, “Cheating bitch.”

Just before his hand makes contact with her cheek, it is caught by the other man. He twists it behind the clothed man’s back, “Never, ever, use that language towards a girl.”

The man screams in pain as he is pushed to his knees, “She fucking cheated on me!”

The girl finally finds her voice, “We broke up yesterday, Tommy.”

Tommy sneers up at her, “Exactly, because you are a slut who sleeps with any guy who’ll have you.”

Instantly a fist crashes into Tommy’s jaw, sending him flying sideways. The other man leaps on top of him, fists flying into his face. The girl screams as blood from Tommy’s nose splatters across her bare midriff.

Castiel can’t watch anymore. He walks across the room, tossing the girl her clothes as he passes. He tugs the half-naked man off a near-unconscious Tommy and throws him to the side, “Someone get help.” He calls to the onlookers, and he barely takes a second to watch the girl dispatched to find a first aid kit sprint down the hallway.

He manoeuvres Tommy into the recovery position and tells the now clothed girl to keep an eye on him. Castiel turns to watch the other man pull on his boots and frowns when he sees the blood staining his face.

“May I have a word with you?” Castiel asks him. The man stares at him, finally nodding and rising to his feet. He ignores the girl and Tommy as he passes; the crowd around the doorway parting for him as the Red Sea parted for Moses.

Castiel hurries after him. The man leads them outside and sits on the grass at the back of the house under the star-studded sky.

“I’m Castiel.” He introduces himself, sitting down facing the other man, who nods, lying back and watching the balls of burning gas far above his head.

“Dean.”


End file.
